Make It Go Away
by myblackkitten
Summary: Milton's dying of cancer and Jerry's there to fight for him.


This was it, the home stretch, the final inning. This was the last quarter. This was the end.

His skin had stretched over his wiry frame and his bones stood out painfully behind his translucent skin. His hair had turned a paler red, more ashy and dry. He was a goner and he'd stopped treatment a while ago.

Now all they could do was keep him happy, take away his pain as much as possible and keep him comfortable.

That's all they could do for him.

For all that they'd done for science, for all he had done for it, he couldn't stop it. He couldn't make his body stop attacking itself. Couldn't keep his cells from mutating.

Couldn't keep himself from dying.

His parents had given up, bowed their heads and gave in.

He stopped fighting, stopped fighting for his life, stopped struggling to hold on.

He was going to take it lying down, go off and greet it.

I wasn't done fighting. I would never be done fighting.

I would always fight for him.

They sent him home. They told his family there was nothing else to be done, and I knew him, he'd never want to die in a hospital.

So he was put in a wheelchair and carted home.

I'd been there, I'd been the one to carry him indoors because he was asleep and couldn't walk on his own.

He couldn't have weighed a buck twenty.

I laid him down gently, and I waited for him to wake up. I waited for him to get up and get better.

I was waiting for nothing.

I stayed by his bedside, even as he threw up his medicine, and even as he slept more than he was awake.

"Hey Jer." He croaked out and I looked up at him.

"Hey Milt." I whispered, my hand stroking over his hair.

"What are you doing here?" He asked and I shrugged.

"We're boys Milton. I'm not leaving you." I said and he grabbed my hand.

"You really should, you reek." He said and I rolled my eyes.

"I do not." I said and he sighed.

"I'm tired Jerry." He whispered and I nodded.

"I know, the medicine is supposed to make you tired."

"No jer, I'm tired." He said, his voice cracking and I shook my head.

"Milt." I whispered and he shook his head.

"I wanna get out of bed." He said and I nodded before grabbing his hand. I could feel every bone in it.

"No, I got it." He said, pushing me away and I rolled my eyes.

"You'll fall Milt." I said and he pushed me.

"I have cancer, I'm going to die. A fall doesn't really matter anymore." He said before pulling himself out of bed. He stumbled a little bit but righted himself before walking over to his piano.

"I haven't played in a long time." He whispered, his hands ghosting over the keys.

"Can I play?" He asked me and I nodded. He sat down on the bench and I sat beside of him.

"At least my hair grew back huh?" He said and I nodded.

His hands were clumsy, shaking a little and he cursed at them.

"It's fine." I said, putting my hands over his and he took a deep breath before starting again. It was still clumsy, but it was music. It was beautiful.

His hands stilled on the keys and he laid his head on the shoulder.

"Are you okay Jerry?" He asked and I shook my head, but didn't say anything.

"It's going to be okay. I'm going to die." He whispered.

"Don't say that." I said softly.

"It's true Jerry. I'm going to die. I'm going to die at seventeen, and there is nothing you can do anymore. There is nothing anyone can do. My time is up here." He whispered and I swallowed at the lump in my throat.

"You can fight." I said, clenching my fist.

"There's nothing left to fight Jerry. I'm tired of fighting." He whispered.

"Well I'm not. I'm not going to stop fighting." I said and he grabbed my hand, squeezing it.

I barely felt it.

"You can't beat up cancer Jerry. You've protected me for so long. You can't protect me from this." He said and I shook my head.

"I'm not strong enough to lose you Milton. I can't." I said as tears began to drip down my face.

"Yes you are; you're the strongest person I know." He whispered and I took a deep breath.

"Jerry?" He whispered and I turned towards him.

"Can you do me a favor?" He asked and I shrugged.

"This isn't fair, and I shouldn't ask this but, I'm dying, so I can't… not ask." He whispered and I nodded.

"I'm really sorry, it's just. I don't want just anyone, and I've been waiting too long. I can't wait anymore. I can't because I don't have time. I just… can you kiss me?" He murmured and I furrowed my eyebrows.

"What?" I asked.

"Can you kiss me? Jerry, will you please just kiss me?" He asked and I nodded. I leaned forward, pressing out lips together as I tried to hold back tears. He wrapped his arms around my neck and pressed forward into the kiss. I could feel him shaking with tears and I brought my hand up to wipe away his tears. He broke the kiss and laid his head on my shoulder.

"Jerry, can you take me back to bed?" He asked and I nodded before picking him up and laying him down gently on his bed.

"Jerry, do you think I'm attractive?" He whispered and I nodded.

"Of course Milton. You're beautiful." I said, rubbing his hair.

"Even like this? Even when I'm this skinny and broken?" He spoke softly and I nodded.

"Always, you'll always be the most beautiful thing in my eyes." I whispered and he nodded.

"Jerry, will you… will you make love to me? Please, I just… I need you too. I want this before…" He murmured and I stroked his face.  
"Milt… are you sure?"

"Please, I just… I need to do it now. I need it to be from someone I love. The only one I ever loved." He whispered.

"I feel like I should take you on a date first." I said and he laughed.

"Such a gentleman. I don't have time for a date."

"In another life, I would have. I would have done it right. I wouldn't have been afraid to let you know how much I love you." I said softly and he shook his head before swallowing.

"Please, don't say that. Please. Just… kiss me." He whispered and I nodded before leaning down and kissing him.

I pulled his shirt off and did the same with mine.

"Are you sure?" I asked, my voice low, as my hands fell to his pajama pants.

"Please." He whispered and I nodded before pulling his pants off.

"I can't… I can't get it up. The medicine…" He explained and I stroked his face.

"It's okay." I reassured before ducking back down and kissing him and pulling my pants down.

"Lube?" I asked and he pointed towards the night stand. I grabbed the bottle and squeezed some out before traveling down to his body. I slipped my finger in and he groaned.

"Are you okay?" I asked, kissing his hipbone.

"Yeah… I'm fine." He whispered and I rubbed my hand over his hipbone. It jutted out through the skin and I sighed, dropping my head on his torso.

I prepped him, him keening under me weakly as I tried not to cry.

"How do you want to do this Milt?" I asked and he sighed.

"Facing you. I want to look at you." He whispered.

"It'll hurt more that way." I said softly.

"I don't care. I want it to. I want to feel it and know I'm alive." He said and I nodded before kissing him and sliding him slowly.

"I love you Milton." I whispered, and he nodded, his breath in little stutters as he adjusted.

"I love you too. Move." He whispered and I nodded before moving slowly. He weakly wrapped his arms around me and leaned his head up so that it rested against my chest. I pushed him back slowly and let my thumb trail over his face.

He groaned and I looked down as he began to get hard.

I reached between us and tried to keep him hard.

"Jerry, I'm- I'm gonna…" he whimpered before tensing up. He came and I grunted as I came, tears in my eyes.

"We didn't… we didn't use a condom." I whispered, my hands shaking as I tried to keep myself from crashing onto him.

"I know, it's okay." He whispered and I slipped out of him and pulled up our boxers. I laid down beside of him and pulled him into my arms.

"Thank you." He whispered and I looked down at him. He was crying against my chest.

"Milt…"

"Just, thank you." He whispered and I hugged him tighter.

"I love you." I whispered and he nodded.

"I love you too. Thank you." He whispered and I just ran my hands through his hair until he fell asleep.

He died on a Tuesday. He died holding my hand, surrounded by people he loved. People who loved him. He could barely speak anymore, and he couldn't get out of bed or sit up. But he died, and there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn't make it go away anymore. I couldn't do anything but sit there and whisper how much I loved him. How much everyone loved him.

I thought he was giving up.

But he wasn't.

He was going with peace and that's all I could ask of him.


End file.
